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Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... |
2003-04-21 - 1:59 p.m. Experiments in aerodynamics and psychology Fill a car full of happy faced balloons. Get stuck in a bad traffic jam. Discover other drivers are very amused and cheered by the happy faced balloons � and are more willing to let you merge at whim. Apparently the world really does need more smiles. An airplane flies based on pressure differential. Wings are shaped so the air moves faster across the top of the wing (creating lower pressure) than the bottom of the wing (ergo, higher pressure on the bottom), for a net total of pushing/sucking things upwards. If you crack the sun roof of a car full of balloons, you will notice the same pressure differential pull them towards the roof exit path. Luckily, the ribbons of said balloons were wrapped around R.K. (my little Pooh bear). Anchored somewhat by the stuffed toy, the balloons did not escape, though R.K. dangled valiantly in mid-air, ribbons now wrapped around his foot, holding down the helium filled messengers of happiness. Continue the experiment in psychology, by parking at the exit to Kymber�s office building and standing there holding the now firmly anchored bunch of balloons. She has two kinds of co-workers. Those that point and laugh at the sight, and those that rush by quickly, because happy faced balloons are a non sequiter that just didn�t happen in their world. I�m sad for the people too rushed to giggle at bright yellow balloons. Mel and I kidnapped Kymber yesterday afternoon, cause it was her birthday and we love her. And a lovely excuse for Mel and I to play hooky from work. We took one balloon, who was dubbed Ned for reasons still unclear, as a our mascot, and left the rest with Roland and Kymber�s car. We had Cajun food in a restaurant sponge painted with Mardi-Gras colors. We had massages (aaaahh), so I am left with a lovely bruised but relaxed feeling today. We shopped for pottery and played with the cat in the used book store. We had high tea, with warm oatmeal cookies, fresh scones and cream puffs. Padraigin? We�re having tea. And cream puffs. In a lovely little Victorian tea room. And we though of you. Pause. Pause. You guys seriously suck. I love you, but you seriously suck. Hee hee. Sorry, P. We ordered more cream puffs. Buoyed by sugar, K then whimsically decided to (hmmm, should I tell them and cut down on the shock? Sure, what the heck.) ... Cut off all her hair. 10� gone. Oh, and we found a new Buddy Byram, personal savior pilgrimage site. Stopped at this strange revamped grocery store for bottled water. Left Kymber outside talking to Padraiga and being disturbed by the wind whipping her short hair, while Mel and I went in. The freezer and cold cases are disconnected. No longer maintaining cool temperature, they instead serve as shelf space for an amazing amount of Jesus memorabilia. Odd. Flat out odd. Open the freezer case and get a buddy Jesus rather than a pack of popsicles. Tequila and a good dinner rounded out the evening. In other amazing news, squire Henry was persuaded to drink good beer and actually appeared to like it. (Something�s got to stop the salt and Budweiser madness.) We (of course) called Byram, cause that�s somehow what always happens after two glasses of wine. Poor BdeB could barely hear and I think we were interrupting projects and wrestling. It�s just your curse, man. So, happy birthday yesterday to Kymber. And day before to Ealdthryth. And today to Leofwynne. And tomorrow to my niece. I now have a major jonesing for cream puffs. � � � 
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